


Two Weddings

by Lexitennant2



Series: God Pairs Up Angels and Demons [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Loves his Houseplants (Good Omens), F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19738501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexitennant2/pseuds/Lexitennant2
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are invited to Anathema and Newton's wedding. Which means a minor breakdown from Crowley in front of his plants, a meddling witch, and Aziraphale is finally talked into some sense so he finally decides that Crowley is NOT going too fast for him.-This story can be read as a stand alone. You do not need to read the other parts, though it would be appreciated it you did :)





	Two Weddings

It looked like a regular piece of paper, though it was made of a creamy white card stock. Flower decals were engraved into the card and in the middle in script font were the words

> Anathema Device and Newton Pulsifer
> 
> request the pleasure of your attendance to their wedding ceremony
> 
> on August 24th, at six o'clock in the evening
> 
> at Jasmine Cottage

The silver of the script was hard to read in the light coming into the shop from outside, so Aziraphale spent some time trying to read the invitation without the suns glare hiding away the words.

"Dear, how long ago was armageddon?" 

Crowley was splayed out on the leather couch that had been stuffed into the overcrowded office. He was enjoying the sunlight that was coming in through the window, soaking up its warmth like the snake that he was. With his arm over his face, his answer to Aziraphale was muffled.

"What was that dear?" Aziraphale asked from his desk chair, making a little 'aha' sound when he found enough shade to read the invitation fully.

Crowley grumbled and removed his arm. "I said, it was about five days ago. Why?"

"Well, Miss Device and that witch hunter have invited us to their wedding."

Crowley blinked quickly in shock.

"Shadwell?!"

"Oh Heavens no, the younger one with glasses that Miss Device said was her boyfriend."

Crowley blinked in shock again.

"Didn't those two just meet?"

"Well yes, young love and what not." Aziraphale said a bit uncomfortable.

There was a heaviness in the air between them, something that had been growing thicker ever since the apocalypse that wasn't. There were words that both sides wanted to say to each other, but old habits and fear kept them from ever vocalizing it. Both were fully aware that they had 6,000 years of pent up emotions and repressed feelings, and Anathema and Newton were already sending out wedding invitations after less than a week of knowing each other. There was an irony it that somewhere that neither demon nor angel wanted to acknowledge.

"Well, I suppose it's different for humans." Crowley drawled, suddenly not as relaxed as he had been. It didn't help that clouds were now covering up the sun, so the shop was illuminated now only by the dull florescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

Crowley sat up from the couch, stretched his arms out in front of him so he could crack his back, and slid on over towards Aziraphale. He didn't pay attention to the personal space boundaries he was ignoring and he all but molded himself to Aziraphale's upper half so he could read over the angel's shoulder.

"August 24th, that's six days from now right?" Crowley's breath brushed over Aziraphale's ear and the angel forced himself to sound normal as he replied, "That's right."

Aziraphale prided himself on not sounding as breathless as he felt as the demon pushed himself a bit closer and plucked the invitation out of Aziraphale's hand. The demon straightened away from Aziraphale, and brought the invitation up close to his face as he read over where and when the event would take place. Aziraphale tried not to miss the lack of contact.

"I suppose it'd be rude to turn them down." Crowley mused.

"Oh most certainly, and we haven't been to a wedding in....I'm not even sure how long."

"Sometime before King Henry VIII."

"Really? That long?"

"Henry kind of put us off the wedding idea." Crowley muttered, both giving a shudder at the thought.

"Well I'm sure nothing of the sort will happen this time." Aziraphale stated, preparing to get out of his desk chair so he could start browsing through one of his books for a suitable wedding gift, but then the fact hit him that there was hardly any chance of such a book being in the shop, and if it were, it would be rather outdated. He would have to order a wedding catalog most surely.

Crowley huffed out a laugh before dipping back down and leaning over Aziraphale to put the invitation onto the desk. At the same time that he was pulling back to stand up straight again, Aziraphale started to get up and they suddenly became aware of how close they were as they stared at each other, faces millimeters apart. 

Crowley was just now remembering that he'd taken his glasses off so he could laze on the sofa, and they were now nestled in between some thick volumes on the coffee table. 

"I'll come by tomorrow then? I'm sure you'll want to go all out for the wedding." Crowley tried to sound as if he was just humoring Aziraphale, but it came out _utterly soft_ instead.

"Four would be a lovely time to come over." Aziraphale said absentmindedly, his focus more on Crowley's eyes.

Crowley rarely removed his sunglasses, even when it was just the two of them. Aziraphale knew that Crowley didn't much like his eyes, but Aziraphale found himself infatuated with them. How the golden yellow had flecks of bright yellow strewn in, how his slitted pupils would dilate when he was particularly excited or, though the demon would never admit it, when he let his guard down and Aziraphale could feel a _tiny_ amount of _love_ slipping through.

"Right. Great. Good." Crowley licked his lips and flicked his eyes down to Aziraphale's lips and then back up again almost unnoticed.

Aziraphale felt his cheeks becoming warm. He had most certainly _not_ missed the way the demon's eyes had just moved. The snakes pupils were becoming larger and Aziraphale could feel that _tiny_ bit of _love_ pushing through again, and he found himself leaning in, when suddenly Crowley was clearing his throat and was halfway across the room.

Aziraphale almost fell out of the chair, his brain sputtering at how fast the demon had moved, he was certain the other hadn't miracled himself away, rather Aziraphale had been so zoned in that he'd lost himself in the thoughts of Crowley's eyes. 

Crowley was placing his sunglasses back on and waving cheerfully over his shoulder as he left the shop, acting as if whatever had just happened hadn't happened.

* * *

"What", _spritz,_ "the", _spritz,_ "bloody hell was that!?" Crowley snapped, spritzing the gigantic plant in front of him.

Said plant had been listening to the demon asking that question for a couple of minutes, and could only offer as close to a shrug as a plant could give.

"I mean come on. Who in their right mind sets a date to be married that quickly? I get it you know, end of the world, emotions running high. But that's all over with and now I'm stuck going to a bloody wedding in six days with Aziraphale....oh crap I over did it." Crowley stopped spritzing the over watered plant, and moved on to the one next to it. The new plant braced itself for the furious misting its owner had given the other plant, but when no water came it dropped slightly, curious as all the other plants were as to why their owner was frozen on the spot.

"You don't think?" He sounded horrified. "Oh no, no, no, no."

Crowley was having something close to a panic attack. This was something that he - being an occult being - shouldn't be having. Maybe he really had _gone native._

"I mean that angel can be _really_ stupid at times when it comes to the most obvious stuff, but surely he won't be oblivious to how I feel about him when we're at a damn wedding!" Crowley was backing to spritzing the plants and did so in a circle, whirling around with pent up energy.

The plants were very confused by this development of their owner becoming a human sprinkler, rather that the careful sprayer they knew him to be.

"You there!" He shouted, pointing to an Orchid that seemed to be the smallest in the room of the other plants. The Orchid trembled as the demon advanced, cursing itself internally for not being larger. It was going to be tossed into the mouth of the horrible beast that Crowley threw the other plants into wasn't it?

"What the hell am I supposed to do. How am I supposed to go to this _blasted_ wedding where all this _love_ is going to be flying around and not blurt out to Aziraphale, 'Hey, don't you think its funny that I've been in love with you for 6,000 years and you hardly even acknowledged me as a friend til very recently, and these humans are getting married eleven days after the almost apocalypse?" Crowley's voice inched higher and higher with every word, causing several dogs in the vicinity to perk their ears up in excitement, wondering where the high pitch was coming from.

If one dog, startled by the high pitch, jolted hard enough on his leash to cause his female owner to fall into the pond at St.James Park, well then he could count it towards his demonic miracle of the day. He had been seriously slacking since the end of the world.

The plant, even if it could speak, did not have anything to say to this hypothetical situation that it had been offered.

Crowley came to this realization and sank to the floor, wishing he could just become a snake again and curl up and hide away.

"Oh this is a _fucking_ disaster." He moaned, tossing aside the spray bottle from his hand, and curled in on himself, not caring that he was showing weakness to his plants.

"This is _your_ work isn't it?!" He shouted, quite sudden, alarming the plants. 

He whipped off his sunglasses and glared at the ceiling.

" _You_ think this is rather hilarious right? Me the lowly demon in love with the most oblivious angel in the universe, and now we're supposed to go to a wedding of two humans who have gotten their shit together. It's a slap to the face it is." His face contorted as if the person he was speaking to had stated something along the lines of " _well you had all this time to tell him how you feel."_

Crowley curled up tighter.

"Well he told me, ' _You go too fast for me Crowley_." He pouted.

"What am I supposed to do with that, I mean, how much slower can I go? We don't even hug for Sat-Go-Someone's sake. I offer to just take him wherever he wants to go but nooo that's way to much!"

Crowley layed on the cool marble flooring of the plant room for hours, dreading tomorrow, but also wishing it would come sooner.

A brave plant, Octavia -one of the few that he'd given a name to in the beginning; she'd been around since the 70's because Crowley was a demon and his plants would never die if he had any say in it; all plants that he had "thrown away into the sink disposal" where actually all planted safely in St.James Park- used all her strength and energy to move one of her rather large and long leaves over Crowley's body, in what she hoped was a comforting embrace.

* * *

Back in the bookshop, Aziraphale was going through something similar, though he didn't have as much luck of being able to vent to his books, as Crowley did venting to his.

"That was too close, much too close." He muttered to himself, dusting off the long line of books with an extremely soft feather duster he'd miracled because he hadn't been pleased with any of the human made ones he'd found.

Aziraphale might miss things every now and then, much like Crowley and his " _ducks. ducks is what water slides off of."_ moment, but even he wasn't oblivious to the love Crowley poured out towards him.

He'd all but admitted it oh so many years ago, after giving Crowley the thermos of holy water, that he was aware of these feelings and that he returned them. But nothing could happen, because Heaven and Hell would do to them unspeakable things.

As it was, they had almost been discorporated by Heaven and Hell, and it had been the pure chance of luck - or a really knowledgeable witch- that had given Aziraphale the idea that they should switch bodies.

And in the end here they were, five days later, free from their superiors, _on their own side_ , and Aziraphale still couldn't come out to the snake and just tell him that he loved him.

Aziraphale put down the feather duster, pleased with his work, and went into the kitchen to start boiling some water for tea. It was simple things like this, making tea, dusting the books, writing things out, all by hand, that made him feel pleased. He felt closer to the humanity he was trying to protect by following what they did. Crowley would see it as somewhat stupid since they were beings of power and could just miracle up whatever they wanted, but Aziraphale would always point out Crowley's plants, and how he washed the Bentley, and that shut the demon up.

And that was the thing wasn't it? That they both knew each other so well, that Crowley knew what restaurants the angel really loved, and Aziraphale knew what Queen song to get the Bentley to play when his friend was in a mood. They knew so much about each other, but also very little. 

In the last five days, they'd been meeting up more than they'd ever done before, and Aziraphale had been introduced to a side of Crowley he'd never seen before, a side that he was falling even more in love with. This side of Crowley was still the old Crowley, but now he stood closer, smiled more often, and the love that was usually only spotted when his glasses were off and for a very short amount of time, was spilling over and wrapping around Aziraphale like a warm sweater.

Aziraphale had rejected Crowley numerous times though, at first because it was unbelievable for them to ever get together, then it was wrong place wrong time, then it was _you go to fast for me Crowley,_ and _we're over_ , and finally, _I forgive you._

Aziraphale worried that Crowley wouldn't try anymore, and it would be mostly the angels fault for this. So the wedding was a perfect time for him to finally, pardon the crass phrase, gain some balls and tell the demon how he felt. 

But a part of him still wasn't ready, a part of him still wondered if God herself would come down and discorporate them personally if they so much as even kissed. And that was the part of him that felt a small relief when Crowley had pulled away from him earlier in the bookshop, while the other half of him screamed that he should have grabbed the demon by his stupid little grey scarf and kissed him senseless. 

Aziraphale frowned, the emotions in his heart playing a tug of war with each other, before he decided that the best course of action, was to speak to the newly engaged couple.

Since the books wouldn't answer him, and he wasn't one to talk to objects, and he didn't have a plant of his own, some humans would have to do.

* * *

Crowley pulled the Bentley up the small gravel road, and parked haphazardly. Only after a quick scolding from Aziraphale, did he reverse the car and park properly, instead of halfway on the grass.

Aziraphale had called to tell him there were a change of plans, and they would be having lunch at Anathema's, four days before the wedding.

From the car, Crowley could sense the nervous energy coming from inside the house. He assumed that planning a wedding in such a short time was an absolute nightmare and that's why he couldn't understand why Anathema had agreed to having them over for lunch. 

"Well, here we are." Aziraphale made a show of straightening out his outfit and hair once they'd exited the car, making Crowley roll his eyes. His driving _wasn't_ that bad.

"After you." Crowley mock bowed, letting the angel go through the gate first. The angel huffed and rushed along, letting out a little snicker when the gate caught on Crowley's shoulder and he stumbled back with a small ow.

Crowley glared but Aziraphale just smiled up innocently at him, and continued up the small path to the house. The angel didn't pause, climbing up onto the porch and then knocking on the door, but Crowley stopped right outside the house, eyes staring intently at the horseshoe.

The horseshoe seemed to have melted into the wood, causing the paint around it to crack and look scorched. He bit the inside of his cheek as he regarded it with distaste.

"Hello, I'm glad you're here, please come in." The door was opened and Anathema was greeting them in a rush, waving her hand out to usher them in. She was very cheery but looked a little strained. Aziraphale started to step forward when he realized that the demon was still standing outside the porch.

Anathema put a hand on her hip and looked up as to where Crowley was looking.

"Dog was also very hesitant." She said, having not really noticed the horseshoe until Adam and Dog had left the first time and she'd smelt burnt metal and looked up.

"Well, Dog is a hell hound. This is meant to _burn_ away the evil." Crowley crinkled his nose, eyeing the horseshoe wearily.

"I'm sure its..fine?" Aziraphale asked Anathema nervously, suddenly aware he might have almost made the demon hurt himself.

"Oh it's fine, Dog was able to come in and he's fine." Anathema said sweetly, motioning for Crowley to come forward.

He did so with reluctance, but when he didn't burst into flames, and his feet didn't burn like they had in the church, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"Right then, It's all good." He said more so to himself than the others, and brushed past Aziraphale and Anathema into the cottage.

Aziraphale and Anathema exchanged a look before following him inside.

The place was cluttered more so than before the armageddon. Magazines were strewn everywhere, as were jackets and a lone sock. Decorative ribbons and fake flowers were cluttering the counter space, as were small little glass bowls that had purple sea glass inside and black twine around the perimeter. Most likely they were the decorative centerpieces and the fake flowers would go inside them.

"Sorry about the mess, it's all hectic and what not. Newt won't be joining us for lunch sadly, he's off with his mom getting a tux." Anathema smiled brightly and used her elbows to make some space on the kitchen table for their lunch.

"Now, how have you two been?" 

Aziraphale began to respond when Anathema cut him off and did something that rendered the two older beings speechless.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't even greet you guys properly, I'm all over the place today."

And she hugged them.

She started with Aziraphale. She was slightly shorter than him, so her pointed chin rested easily on his shoulder, and her slender arms slid under his arms and looped around him in a tight embrace. The hug was quick and she gave a quick kiss on the cheek as she pulled away. She then advanced on Crowley - advanced being how Crowley saw it but she just merely walked over to him - and pulled him into her arms. Again the hug was quick, as was the kiss on the cheek, but this time she had to stand on tip toes to kiss him.

"I'll go get our lunches while you two sit down and tell me about your day." Anathema gestured for them to sit and they did so, both slightly bewildered. 

Crowley was looking rather flushed.

"Well," Aziraphale cleared his throat, getting his bearings together, "I spent most of this week cleaning and rearranging the bookshop. You wouldn't know this but it was burnt down, and Adam was kind enough to bring it back but..oh there's only so much the boy can do and now I have new books popping up everywhere." 

The bookshop was still a bit of a sore subject with Aziraphale, sort of like the paintball incident, but on a larger scale. The bookshop may very well be back to almost normal, but _he would always know it had burnt down._ Just like Crowley sometimes shifted uncomfortably in the brand new but not new car. No longer burning after the debacle on the M25.

"There's a whole bunch of _Goosebumps_ books now." 

"They're not that bad." Crowley defended. 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "You don't read."

"I do...sometimes." Crowley pouted, catching Anathema's eye, and in a moment of truth he blurted out, "I say I don't like to read, but really it's my eyes. They're not meant for reading."

Anathema titled her head in confusion at this information, and set down their plates filled with ham and cheese sandwiches, chips - the American kind - pickles, coleslaw, and sliced apples.

Aziraphale was looking at him in wonder, and was reminded again of how much they knew each other, but not enough, even if they had been together for 6,000 years.

"I never asked before, but at the airbase, your eyes were a bit different. I couldn't really tell, but that's why you can't read then is it?"

"Yes." Crowley said bluntly, his scratching of his snake tattoo the only sign of his unease. He then took off his glasses, folding them carefully into his pants pocket, and waited for her to scream.

Anathema, who had manners, and was a professional descendent of a witch, hid her surprise, and instead reached into the fridge to grab them all bottles of water.

"Snake eyes, it's understandable why you can't read very well." She said conversationally. "Have you tried reading with the sunglasses?"

Crowley shook his head. "They're too tinted."

"I might have a pair of reading glasses around here if you'd like to try that?" Anathema offered, taking a large bite of her sandwich.

Crowley, who was a demon, and had very few instances in where people were kind to him, allowed himself to say a quick "thank you."

Aziraphale kept quiet during this interaction, a small feeling of warmth spread throughout him though, to see Anathema so unfazed by a part of the demon that others were naturally revoluted by. 

He was rather glad, that out of all the witches in the world - which there were many - they had Anathema at their side.

* * *

"So really, the question comes down to either purple or green." 

"Well, you already have purple in those glass bowls."

" _Yes,_ but that's beside the point." Anathema shoved another magazine under Crowley's nose, this one with a different bridesmaid dress. The model was looking as if someone have just vomited on her and he pushed the magazine away.

"Well I think the green would bring out your eyes dear." Aziraphale said pleasantly from the other side of Crowley.

After lunch, and quick updates on each others lives, they had retired to the small living room. There was only a faded, paisley couch to sit on, so all three crammed onto it, with Crowley in the middle and the witch and angel on either side of him.

Anathema had begun showing them her magazines, and Aziraphale had innocently began questioning her about any previous weddings she'd gone to, still fishing for what he should bring as a gift, and Anathema had said something about a registry but Crowley hadn't really been listening. He was stuck in his own head, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

"Do you really think so?" Anathema asked eagerly. Her voice to Crowley sounded miles away.

"Brown and green go quite well together my dear. Who was it you said was your maid of honor?" Aziraphale's voice also had the miles away quality to it.

Crowley didn't have much room to spread out, what with two others sandwiching him in, but he did the best that he could and he let himself drift off a bit into his thoughts.

On the one hand, he could get his shit together like Anathema and Newt were, and just marry Aziraphale. But the problem with that was they'd never properly dated, or even held hands. Sure that was a more conventional human way and they were ethereal and occult beings, but the premise was rather nice. There was a sudden flash of Aziraphale in a wedding dress and Crowley tried to beat that image out of his head.

He'd be the only one in a wedding dress thank you very much. He after all, was the one of the two that could pull off the nanny look.

The whole marriage concept was a formality to him, but it also intrigued him. You were supposed to be giving yourself over to the other person in marriage, and well...they had already swapped bodies. Did that make them married already? He guessed from a humans perspective they probably already were. But it was complicated times a billion when it came to Aziraphale. Crowley wasn't sure the angel even loved him. Oh sure he'd said some things, and there'd been some actions, but there had never been anything concrete. 

_You go too fast for me Crowley._

Those words were going to haunt him til the end of the universe weren't they?

At that time Crowley could have sworn that the angel loved him back. That he'd purposefully been acting oblivious for the years afterwards hurt Crowley. They were on their own side now for everything's sake.

He felt himself shaking and he came back to reality, a worried Aziraphale shaking his shoulder.

" 'M what?" He snapped.

He was aware of where he was and stood briskly, muttering something about checking out Anathema's garden for he needed some fresh air.

Aziraphale and Anathema watched him go.

"See, this is what I mean." Aziraphale sounded pained, after they had heard the cottage door slam shut.

"It's like, I know what he's thinking about, because I can feel these rushes of love coming towards me, and then he just shuts it all down."

Anathema took her glasses off in an almost Crowley like fashion, and stared down into them as she took in the angel's words.

"From what you said on the phone," she put her glasses back on and fixed him with a pointed stare, "you two have been playing this back and forth game for centuries."

Aziraphale nodded, deciding not to comment on how she phrased it.

"And every time he opened up to you, you rejected him."

Aziraphale opened his mouth to contradict her but she barrled on.

"The holy water doesn't count. You weren't clear with him, and when it comes to these things sometimes you have to use the most layman of terms to make people understand how you feel. Just because you thought by telling him that he was going to fast, he'd understand that then wasn't the right time and maybe later it'd all work out. He might have not understood any of that at all, or thought you were telling him there was no chance in Hell-"

Aziraphale opened his mouth again but Anathema was on a roll.

"-or Heaven, whatever, the fact is you then decided to reject him _twice_ more after that. I hate to say this but if it'd been anyone else but Crowley, they'd have given up on you."

Aziraphale gave a pitiful noise.

Anathema realized the harshness of her words, and grasped his hand in hers gently.

"You both have taken so much time already, and while I'm sure he could very well tell you he loves you back first - yes he does I can sense it from the moment he's in the room with you and how he looks at you, and you said so yourself that he's filled with love for you - I get the feeling he doesn't like to make himself anymore vulnerable than he has to. He's hiding in my garden right now, there's the proof."

Aziraphale nodded, squeezing the witch's hand in a thank you.

"Now, we're going to continue discussing my wedding and wait for Crowley to return inside. Maybe I can even convince you two to help me with the decor and wedding favors. But for now, think on what I have said, and just _talk to him_ when the moment is right."

Anathema removed her hand from his and shoved a magazine into its place, and then peered at him over her glasses.

"And by the right moment, I do mean by my wedding or I'll do it for you."

* * *

Aziraphale fixed his bow-tie again, even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. He'd took one look at the suit Anathema had shown him and politely, but quickly, told her no. He was quite happy with his current fashion choices, no matter how much Crowley teased him about it.

He tugged the waistcoat down a little bit where it had ridden up and sighed heavily as he looked at himself in the full body mirror. He was wearing what he normally wore, but had changed the color scheme for it was a special occasion. His suit was a creamier white, and his pants and waistcoat were a darker brown. He'd settled on a robin egg blue tartan bow-tie that he thought brought out his eyes.

He sighed again as he pressed his hand down against his stomach, frowning at how there was the slightest curve that stuck out, causing the waist coat to ride up a bit again. He'd need to have a word with his tailor, his usual waistcoat did not ride up, or show off as much...belly as this one did.

He was by no means fat, but he was closer to what the kids these days called a 'dad bod' then the average male body.

He tutted, scolding himself for worrying about his corporeal body. Crowley very obviously loved him, _all_ of him, and there was no need for him to feel so human about how he had let himself go over the millennia's. Gabriel's comment from last week was making its way back and Aziraphale gave himself a shake.

There was a clatter from downstairs, announcing the arrival of his demon companion, and he sucked in a breath of anticipation. He grabbed a fancy yellow bag that contained his gift to Anathema and Newt and made his way out of his bedroom and downstairs.

The last few days the tension between he and Crowley had grown. His talk with Anathema had assured that. They still continued as they had been for the other days, going to new places for food, walking in the park, retiring with wine in the bookshop. Though now they had skype calls with Anathema in between to check up on her, Newt, and Adam. Crowley was still smiling more, being _kinder_ , though he would still trip people, and he did love gluing a coin to the sidewalk and watch people trying to pick it up. They were little things, minor irritations, and so _Crowley_ that Aziraphale couldn't fault the demon.

And when the demon would get into his personal space, Aziraphale allowed himself to return the favor. He'd caught the pleased small smiles Crowley had whenever that happened and the angel always flushed happily.

"Crowley, what in the world." Aziraphale paused on the stairs, coming face to face with a rather large plant that had very wide and long leaves. Its pot was a gleaming gold, and was tied with a thick red ribbon. The only thing of Crowley that Aziraphale could see were gangly legs that were covered in a tight burgundy fabric, that had black vertical stripes, and black snakeskin shoes.

"Help me angel, this plant is _ridiculously_ heavy." Crowley panted out.

Aziraphale rushed over to him and they both carried it over a few feet away from anywhere that it could block the path of someone, and set it down. There was shuffling and cursing, and when Aziraphale finished brushing off some of the dirt that had fallen out of the pot off his shoes, he straightened up and became quite glad that his body didn't need to breathe.

But that didn't stop him for choking on his breath as he took in Crowley.

Crowley had slicked back his hair, but little tufts were rebelling and curling and spiking around his head. He had a tight white button up under a jacket that matched the color and pattern of his pants. The sleeves of the jacket were rolled up showing off his forearms, and what was most _intriguing_ was the red lipstick.

Crowley shifted self-consciously, scratching nervously at his tattoo. "You don't think it's too much do you?"

"Not at all." Aziraphale breathed out, his eyes trying to take in as much of Crowley as they could.

"It's just well," Crowley continued as if he hadn't heard, "I don't normally dress up, there's no real point, but I thought, for the witch I should." He blabbed on pushing his sunglasses up so they nestled into his hair.

Aziraphale's eyes widened. Crowley was wearing eyeliner.

Aziraphale was taking a step forward without even knowing it, the yellow bag falling to the floor.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

The angel had a mission. He didn't think he'd be able to keep his hands off of Crowley for much longer. He stalked, more then walked closer to Crowley. The demon raised his eyebrows high, his golden eyes widening in slight fear and anticipation as he backed up slowly.

"Angel, do I have something on my face? Was the lipstick too much?" Crowley bumped against the edge of the front desk, raising his hand up to wipe off the lipstick, and Aziraphale snapped his hand out to grab onto the others wrist.

"It's _fucking_ gorgeous." He all but growled out.

Crowley's eyes were dilating even more, and he didn't even seem aware that he was now sitting slightly on the desk, and that his legs had spread wider to accommodate Aziraphale between them. 

"O-oh really." He squeaked out, his arms now limp noodles that were unsure as to where they should put themselves.

"Anathema and I, we talked about you, and while she did threaten me I want you to know that it is of my own accord that I'm telling you this now." Aziraphale was so close that the poor demon was going slightly cross eyed with trying to keep him in his sights.

The angels hands were moving up his arm to his shoulder slowly and the demon gave a shudder under the touch. 

" _Angel,_ what are-what are you doing?" He whispered, leaning forward into the man before him so they were touching everywhere. Crowley _really_ loved how easy the angel fit in between his legs, and how said angel was blushing like a tomato but had determination in his blue eyes.

The hands on his shoulder tightened and Aziraphale was surging forward, startling the demon as their lips collided. 

It was messy at first, with Crowley just barely holding himself upright with his hands on the desk to steady him, what with the momentum Aziraphale had as he came towards him.

Their teeth clacked harshly, and their noses were smushed, but Crowley found himself not giving a damn. The angel was _kissing_ him and that was all that mattered.

Aziraphale pulled away first, resting his forehead against Crowley as he tried to catch his breath, a breath that he didn't need but made him feel more alive to use it.

Crowley licked his lips, savoring the taste left behind.

"Well... _well that was._ I'm sorry but that was bloody amazing." He wriggled his butt so he could move even closer to Aziraphale, and hooked his legs behind the angels knees. He was grinning like a loon, his pupils blown as wide as they could be, and all from a kiss.

In his defense, he had never done anything, or ever felt this strongly, in his entire life.

 _His angel -_ there was no way he was letting Aziraphale go after this _-_ was blushing prettily and had a dazed look in his eyes. Crowley's grin widened impossibly more as he saw his own lipstick had turned Aziraphale's lips a nice cherry red.

"Glad you liked it." Aziraphale said coming back to himself, his smile shy.

"Can we do it again?" Crowley was eager.

Aziraphale answered by kissing him again, this time slow and sweet. His hands moved, one going around the demons waist to hold him to his chest, the other going into the red hair, knocking off the sunglasses and utterly destroying the slicked back look. Crowley sank into Aziraphale's plusher form and laced his fingers through Aziraphale's curls, giving little tugs that made the angel whimper into his mouth.

They stayed there for a while, just kissing, Crowley opening his mouth for Aziraphale to deepen the kiss. The angel tasted of honey and something so _lovely_ that Crowley couldn't describe it but he knew he would always want more.

Aziraphale's tongue in his mouth was something _new_ and _totally_ welcomed, and Crowley hissed happily as all the sensations overwhelmed him but in a good way.

The angel pulled away again and Crowley whined from the loss, his eyes opening half way as the angel began stroking his hair.

" _I love you Crowley,_ always have and always will. I've been a fool for not being straightforward about it to you, you deserve so much better." The angel said softly, and Crowley all but melted into his touch.

"No." He said, tucking his head under the angel's chin, and rubbing his hands all over Aziraphale's _glorious_ body. "I ssshould have ssaid sssomething first." He was so content that he was hissing but again, he couldn't care less. He was in Heaven, which you can take that for what you will.

"Absolutely not dear, this was my fault. We could have been doing this sooner if I wasn't so afraid of what would happen." Aziraphale moved back just enough so that he could tilt Crowley's head up by the chin and kiss him again.

"I love you too." Crowley said against Aziraphale's soft lips, and the angel squeezed him tighter, kissing more deeply.

"We need to get going." Aziraphale said after a few moments.

"Oh _fuck_ the wedding." Crowley grunted, but reluctantly allowed Aziraphale to move away from him, and grab the yellow bag that had fallen to the floor. They spent a moment smoothing down their suits, but it was pointless as they were back in each others arms like love struck teenagers that were forced to be kept away from each other by families who were enemies.

Crowley smirked down at Aziraphale, much liking the height difference. 

"Really now." Aziraphale huffed, sensing what the demon was thinking. 

"We need to get going right now," Aziraphale leaned upwards to give a peck to Crowley's lips, "if we want to," _kiss,_ "get that blasted plant," _kiss,_ "to the venue."

Crowley hissed, and then blinked looked down at his lover in confusion.

"The plant?"

"Yes, the giant one you brought in."

"Oh...That's Octavia, she's for you. My present for Anathema and the witch hunter are waiting in the Bentley."

Aziraphale glanced over at the plant, who almost seemed to be giving the air of someone who knew they shouldn't be looking at the intimate moment, but couldn't help it seeing as they were a plant and couldn't leave the room.

"For me?" He asked, feeling all the love in the room was going to make him burst with happiness.

"Yes for you. She has proven her worth countless times, and I'd only give you the best." Crowley said softly, and Aziraphale couldn't help but pull him into another deep kiss. 

This time Crowley pulled away and winked. "Come now angel, we're going to be late for the wedding." 

He began to walk away, reapplying his lipstick.

Aziraphale huffed at the demons teasing, but hurried after him and interlaced their fingers so they were holding hands .

The sunglasses lay forgotten on the desk where they had fallen to.

* * *

The guests were very welcoming to the arrival of Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Apparently Anathema talked a lot about them. 

Crowley had realized once he'd stepped out of the car that he wasn't wearing his sunglasses - the kissing had left him that dazed - but a quick reassurance from Anathema had made him not grab another pair from the glove box. She rather liked his eyes, and she knew that Aziraphale rather liked them as well, and had already told her family and friends that he just had an eye condition and not to say anything in the hopes that he wouldn't wear his glasses. Luck seemed to be on her side when she'd saw he'd arrived without them.

Crowley was once again pulled into a hug by the young woman, and this time he returned it happily, complimenting her on her dress.

It was quite odd to not see her in a witchy skirt or dress, and rather in a short and rather modern looking white wedding dress, but it suited her quite well. Her hair was curled even more so into an updo, and a lacy veil trailed behind her.

Her friends were telling Aziraphale where to put the gifts, but Crowley reached into his backseat and pulled out a lovely golden blue flower. It looked like a mix between a rose and a honeysuckle, and the golden tones swirled perfectly with the deeper blue. It was one of the few flowers he had left from The Garden.

Crowley handed it to Anathema, and told her quietly that it should go into her bouquet, and that when the wedding was done, to place it in the vase he'd brought and it would bloom forever more. 

Anathema took the flower with shaky hands and carefully inserted it amongst the flowers in her bouquet. 

Aziraphale came up to them, and Crowley easily slid an arm around his waist. Anathema looked close to tears and drew them both into a long hug.

When she was gone they made their way to their seats. 

They were in a grassy field, rather than a church, which was a huge relief to Crowley, and there was a gazebo set up with white mesh curtains and green accents. A blonde that was Anathema's friend from college, and who was the maid of honor, was wearing an emerald green brides maid dress, and was hitting it off with Newton's grooms man. 

Crowley and Aziraphale said polite greetings to Sergeant Shadwell, and a rather less flamboyantly dressed Madame Tracey, though she had kept the eyeshadow. 

Adam came by with the Them and Dog.

There was a minor scuffle as Dog tried to pee on Aziraphale's shoes, but the kids left with candy in their hands and Adam was given a fond pat on the head from Crowley.

As they sat down near the front, a few seats away from Anathema's mother, Crowley leaned in and whispered into the angels ear.

"When we get married, I think we should do it out here, and only invite a few people, not as many as there are now."

Aziraphale choked on the sour candy he'd put in his mouth and looked over at Crowley in adoration and shock.

"We could even invite our respective superiors. I'm sure Beelzebub and Gabriel would be thrilled to be our bridespersons, or maybe even officiate? I can see it now, Gabriel walking you down the aisle, _giving you away to me................."_

Two figures stood shoulder to shoulder in the woods surrounding the wedding.

One was a tall, handsome man, wearing a grey pressed suit, and had violet eyes. The other was much shorter, and had a rather large but cute fly upon their head.

They had exceptional hearing so there was no need to wonder what was being said as they stared at Aziraphale and Crowley.

"...... _giving you away to me, wiping away a tear as good old Beez begins the ceremony."_

Crowley's voice was coming in loud and clear to the two watching them.

Beelzebub's flies were mirroring their masters unease, and Gabriel clenched his fist and quite loudly said.

"OH THAT MOTHERFUC-"


End file.
